Dream of Reality
by BrookeAnderson
Summary: After an attack by the Mountain Men, Clarke wakes up in an Alternative Universe set in Modern-Day. Despite her seemingly perfect life, she knows something-or someone-is missing. Read and Review!
1. Introduction

Introduction:

"—n't tell me what to do!" Clarke said with an over exaggerated huff as her heavy feet pushed into the damp soil, leaving imprints of their path. Her blue eyes darted away from his sweaty face because she was desperately trying to hold onto her self-control for a little longer. Bellamy happened to be displaying his newfound pushy and overprotective attitude, designed specifically for her, during one of the hottest days they'd experienced their entire time on Earth. She took in the evergreens as her head tried to rummage through facts about her location rather than her boiling anger and aggravation. Her brain was hardly functioning—her mother was overworking her as an example to the entire youth. Apparently, Abby did not like being told she was not in charge and now that Clarke's friends were safe and "home", as the adults referred to it, she was staking her claim as political leader. It was the main reason that she was trekking through the forest with Bellamy in the first place.

"_Clarke…I need you to look for possible land with one of your friends." _Abby was referring to Monty, of course, but she forgot his name. It would have been wise of Clarke to invite Monty on the expedition but she highly doubted he felt up to doing the bidding for the council especially due to his heated romance with Harper and his recovery plan.

Clarke was reconsidering her _grand _idea to drag Bellamy away from his busy pants-dropping schedule to help her make a note of herbs in a twenty-mile vicinity. In truth, she trusted Bellamy more than she trusted anyone else. Monty wasn't necessarily _needed _during their trip anyway…she did her best to learn most of the commonly used herbs. It _used _to be her job to know them. Her eyes flitted back to him for a moment—a millisecond, really but long enough for him to meet her glance and frown. He cleared his throat, indicating that he was not done arguing with her. He sounded equally annoyed with her but she could ignore his annoyance and dissatisfaction for another thirty minutes. They were close to camp and she could evade him for a week before it was absolutely _important _to see each other—although, the concept of going a week without a discussion on political mishaps and the "glory" days saddened her, only to add fuel to her fire because she did not want his absence to make her sad. "Last time I checked, I didn't ask _you _for your opinion." She interjected right as he opened his mouth to start in on round 43 of their argument.

"You're considering going on a date with—"

"It's not a date, okay? _It's not a date_." It was not supposed to sound like a lie but as she spoke, she realized it did. She attempted to recover, "Lexa wants me to platonically feast with her cousin. I don't understand why it's a problem for you! I don't intentionally involve myself in your romantic life, if romantic is even the right word for it."

_I just need to hear you say it, Bellamy…just once so this isn't a complete guessing game all the time… _

"It's not. You're right, do whatever the _fuck _you want." He chewed on his lip, his hands fidgeting by his side before he stepped in front of her. He narrowed his eyes as he looked down at her, "I don't _want _you to do it."

"Why?" Her voice was weaker than usual because he was so c_lose. _His eyes crinkled at the edges and she knew he was fighting a response. "Bellamy…" He was accustomed to the way she said his name ever-so softly as if she were mercy killing him every time they were having a private conversation that crossed the subject of whatever-we're-doing-we-can't. "It's not a date to _me._"

Honestly, she did not know about her feelings for Bellamy. She knew there w_ere _feelings and it'd be best to never act on them. But sometimes, the way he looked at her told her that he didn't want to be _just friends, just co-leaders, just partners _for the rest of his life either. It was highly unfair that he looked at her that way and then said things along the lines of, "We have to keep walking before it gets dark. We're still not out of the red zone when it comes to the Mountain Men. They want to retaliate."

She nodded, "You're right. Let's go."

Bellamy's feelings for her were obvious to everyone—even her. He didn't want anyone to go near her, let alone touch her. He usually got his way but when he didn't, someone got a fist in their face or a hefty death threat. Of course, she would get angry and her words would paint him an accurate picture of their situation, _"You can't go around punching every man in the face because they look at me like they want me especially if you don't want me."_ She would pause, slight regret tainting her words for a moment as she took in the look on his face but she would always continue with a blow to the chest. _"I'm not yours, Bellamy and at this rate—I never will be. Do us both a favor and stop pretending." _

It was safe to say that things were highly complicated but she was able to compartmentalize on any other given day except this one. He was going to reply, he was going to say something with meaning—she could tell by the way he rubbed his lip between his teeth before his lips parted. "I don't—"

A thick fog overtook their vision, causing both of them to cough excessively before the sound of their weight slamming into the ground echoed throughout the wooded area. She heard him call her name, his hand reaching out to find hers.

Then she heard nothing.

Felt nothing.

It was all nothing and only nothing.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

"_X _equals 43."

It was her voice.

She knew it was her voice.

Yet, it felt completely foreign as it vibrated through her throat and out her lips into the strange room filled with adolescents. She scanned her eyes across wooden desks and teenagers who seemed absolutely miserable in the environment. In the process of staring at the back of their heads, she also tried to see if she recognized any of those clean, little heads as her people. _X_, in fact, did equal 43. The plump teacher turned around, nodding because she was impressed that Clarke knew the answer.

Hell, Clarke was impressed she knew the answer.

She shifted uncomfortably in the desk, her eyes flittering around the room as she analyzed every detail. The floor was marked with dirty footsteps, crumbs of processed food and small insignificant cracks. The walls were covered in posters with encouragements on them. It was sort of ironic, the words on the posters were not accurate at all yet they were presented to thousands of children forced into education. Her cerulean orbs eventually landed on the open window and she gasped quietly at the tamed greenery, the small bushes with blooming flowers meeting her eyes.

_This is remarkable… _

_But this is a dream…_

_A twisted, weird dream…_

An obnoxious sound rang throughout the classroom and the teenagers stood abruptly, throwing their industrial made packs over their shoulders. In all honesty, she'd never seen such nice and new clothes. Everything on the Ark was highly repurposed and even in the Mountain clothes had seen their better days. They were entirely new, entirely fresh in every sense of the word. She wanted to rub her hand across the backs of all the clean fabric but she controlled herself. She followed the people out of the class room, turning towards the direction they all seemed to gravitate towards. She was slightly distracted by the movements of people but her distraction ended as soon as her face was met with the soft cotton of someone's shirt.

Underneath the cologne, she recognized the smell and she felt her fingers start to shake. He released a loud huff at the rough contact of her body against his. Slowly, she tilted her chin up to meet his brown eyes—her eyebrows furrowing as tears formed in her eyes at the sight of her friends. He chuckled, "You look like you've seen a ghost, Clarke."

"Wells." She said before she wrapped her arms around him in a python-like hug. She feared that if she ever let go of him, his memory—the mere mention of his existence would fade and she would wake up in loneliness. She swallowed hard, pushing back her tears to bask in the happiness of being reunited with him. "I missed you." _I still miss you… _

"I always meet you at the end of the day, are you feeling okay? We car pool. Now, I'd let go before the gossip gets back to your boyfriend. He's cool but…"

"My—" Clarke's head sharply turned at the sound of yelling, cheering and applause. She recognized the sound all too well. "Someone's fighting." She said in a tone that Wells must have never heard her use before in her life.

"Where the hell are you going?"

She nearly leapt off the three concrete stairs leading into a courtyard she was unfamiliar with and launched herself into the crowd. Her hard voice, full of authority and promising threats, caused people to make room for her until she was in front. It took her half a second to recognize the brunette before her, throwing wild punches at a redhead that Clarke did not care about and would never give a damn for. The redhead gained on Octavia and Clarke saw the tattoo of a butterfly on her friend's lower back.

_Bellamy is going to kick your ass…_

The thoughts of Bellamy did not last long in her head because she found herself lunging forward to grab a fistful of the redhead's hair, causing her to yelp. "What the fuck are you doing?" She asked the girl, meeting her eyes with an angry glare.

"Beating this bitch's ass, what's it to you?"

Octavia ran a hand across her bloody lip before the redhead looked away from Clarke and punched her hard in the face. "You want to fight her?" She asked, "Fight me instead _bitch." _Octavia hunched over, but pulled up quickly as she decided she could still fight. She did not have to because Clarke pulled her arm back, swiftly punching the redhead as hard as she could. A loud crack echoed from the contact but it was not Clarke's fist. The girl toppled to the ground and Clarke fell to her knees to finish the job—because that's all she knew how to do…finish the job.

Lexa's recent words ran through her head—

"_No mercy, Clarke. Mercy and hesitance mean the difference between life and death—it's only about life and death." _

The girl—because she was now a girl tried to grab her hair but Clarke was stronger, Clarke was better and she was winning until her arms were grabbed from behind and she was promptly pulled off the bleeding _bully. _

Metal cuffs collided with her wrists and she wanted to snort. _What were these going to do to her? _She could easily get out of them if she wanted. They were nothing compared to the Ark cuffs or even zip ties. It was a rudimentary task that she would have performed if a rare mindset did not surface in her head.

_It's not about survival here._

She was handcuffed to Octavia, another person she knew could escape handcuffs…or at least, the Octavia she knew could. "Why did you do that? I can take care of myself." She attempted to cross her arms, a reflex Clarke had observed many times before. She groaned when Clarke's wrist followed her motion.

"I know." Clarke said sincerely, "Trust me…but you shouldn't have to fight alone."

Octavia narrowed her eyes, "And your preppy ass knows everything about fighting, right?" She snorted but then shrugged, "I must say I was impressed with your swing. Showed her but you don't know me. Everyone knows who you are…but you do not know me."

Clarke did not know why she felt she had to prove to Octavia that she _knew _her. This was a dream, she would wake up soon enough to tell Octavia the tale. She might even get a kick out of the tattoo thing although Clarke didn't want to give her friend any ideas. "I know you're Octavia Blake."

"Oh, the _princess _knows my name." She said sarcastically, "Must I bow before you, your majesty? You know you could easily talk them into letting you go, right?"

"And let you go to jail by yourself? I don't think so." Clarke yanked her arm, causing Octavia to frown. "The princess would like her hand back."

Octavia laughed, "I like you."

"It looks like I aim to impress in these clothes." Clarke laughed, staring down at the pink sweater and khaki pants. The car started to move and Clarke avoided looking out the windows. She was well aware motion sickness existed.

"You ever been arrested?" Octavia squinted, "You're being really cool about this entire situation as if you won't lose your trust fund."

"It's not like I'm losing my life." Clarke said, "They can't float me."

"Float?"

"Uh…" Clarke forced a smile, "I meant execute."

Octavia nodded slowly, "Okay? Well, I know I'm screwed." She sighed heavily, "Not going to enjoy making my one and only phone call…my brother's going to kick my ass for fighting that—ugh!"

_Bellamy isn't the type to get mad at _you _for a fight… _

"I would think he would be proud of you, you defended yourself fairly well."

Octavia started laughing, slamming her free hand against her thigh as if it were hilarious. "You don't know my brother." She said in between laughing fits, "He's an overprotective dick and he pretends he's my father. I swear, sometimes I feel like he thinks he's my father."

Clarke smiled to herself before she knowingly said, "But you love him."

"Unfortunately, I do love the asshole." She agreed.

100

Clarke's fingers traced the painted white brick wall of the holding cell, casting a glance towards Octavia. She'd fallen asleep, curled up on the bench. They were the only people in the small town jail and Clarke started to question the location in which she resided, although, the question was constantly in her head the entire time she just had better things to do with her time—a.k.a, dealing with Octavia. "Clarke Griffin?" The cop asked, looking at her. "Of course, you look just like your mom. Anyway, you've been released."

She shook Octavia's body, "Hey…" She said to her, knelling down before her. "I've been sprung from prison…sorry."

"No big deal, jackass should be here to get me any minute. Um, so would you like to hang out sometime? I don't have that many friends…and like I said before…I like you."

Clarke acted like it was obvious, "Of course we can hang out. I assume you know where I live? The farthest castle to the right." She only said this because _she _had no idea where she lived.

"Yeah, of course." Octavia laughed. "So, if I'm not dead, tomorrow?"

"That'd be great."

She expected to see her mother, expected to see the disapproving look she'd been getting for the last two weeks. She did not expect to meet comforting, familiar blue eyes. She did not expect to ever see her father again. "Dad?"

"Clarke…" He said, "Do you realize how much trouble you are in right now?" Her arms wrapped around him, bringing him as close as possible. He was angry with her, but she did not care. _I'm never letting you go…_ "Wow, you haven't hugged me like that since you were a little kid. Jail changed you, I guess? I think a few hours in a holding cell is enough punishment."

It was like her father, really, to be the softer of the disciplinary parents. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and she smiled. "Yeah…prison changed me…I think it made me a better person, like you." She was not talking about her time in the holding cell—she was talking about her time in the Skybox. "Willing to make the sacrifice I needed to protect people that couldn't protect themselves—that shouldn't have to protect themselves."

"That's a very mature viewpoint. Don't grow up too fast, kiddo." He chuckled, "I think your mother will be exceptionally pissed but her temper might falter when she reads your acceptance letter into her favorite university. She may forget about this whole arrest thing, seeing as it doesn't really exist." She casted a look over to him, "Don't worry—your friend's record was expunged in the process. I've never met her before, she teach you how to fight?"

"Something like that." Clarke shrugged before she caught a glimpse of brown eyes—a second, that's all it took to lose her grip completely.

_This isn't real, Clarke…_

_It's a dream…_

_This isn't real…_

She inhaled, "What do you want to do for dinner? I'm starved."

"Our justice system is failing, making semi-innocent girls starve to death!" Jake Griffin laughed, "I think we can settle on something delicious and quick. How do you feel about chicken?"

She didn't know a damn thing about chicken unless it was "chicken-flavored."

"Sounds amazing."

_It isn't real, but I want it to be._

_I don't ever want to wake up._

_I'm never going to wake up. _


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

"_Brave princess…princess…princess…princess…" _

She heaved herself from the bath water, choking audibly on air and her own foolishness. In an attempt to calm herself, she rested her back against the porcelain tub, tangling her long fingers in the blonde waves that touched her forehead for reassurance that she was, in fact, _real. _She wanted this to be real…maybe that's why she put her head under the water to test the boundaries of this version of reality.

After dinner with her father and a brief discussion with a woman that wore her mother's face but possessed none of her mother's qualities, Clarke dismissed herself to her room. Well, that was after she found her room in the, what she thought people called, mansion. It was obvious that her mother was a surgeon, her father an engineer by the degrees displayed on the living room wall along with family portraits that seemed too cold to be real.

Her father was correct, her mother's anger did subside with the mention of an acceptance letter. Clarke faked happiness—something she knew she was a master at if she did not know anything else. For a brief second, it seemed like Abby and Clarke were _better _in the dream-state than reality. She hadn't sentenced her father to death, that's for one. Still, there was a twinge of her soul that missed something about her _mother _and she could not be specific on what made her feel that way.

Her erratic heartbeat slowed as her eyes started to close and his voice moved through her head once more like a bullet. Her naked form was fractured by the gallons of steam around her skin. She was physically relaxed but emotionally torn.

In this dream land that she was victim to, her memories were the only thing she could hold onto.

"_And what do you want me to do, Clarke? Do you really think it's that easy for me? You must." His jaw twitched as he fought to contain the rest of his rant. They were standing in the middle of the abandoned drop ship, his fist clenched as they argued. He looked away from her but returned his gaze just as quick. _

"_Of course I don't think it's easy!" She returned, "Nothing about our lives…nothing is easy, Bellamy but you continue to make this as difficult as possible."_

"_I don't know what you're referring to but I think you're deluded." _

She remembered how he moved his hand across her cheek lightly before walking away from her. She remembered the look in his brown eyes and how it said _"I want to do this…" _but his actions said, _"…But I can't."_

Her body started to sink once more but she stopped herself, her hands automatically reaching for the ledge of the tub as she let out another loud gasp. "Keep it together, Clarke." She told herself before her toe hit the metal piece to drain the water.

She stumbled around her room. Her eyes temporarily glazing over at the sight of like-new clothes in mass quantities as she searched for something comfortable to sleep in. Once she was dressed, she began to snoop. She opened up the nightstand, pulling out a lotion called "Pink Chiffon" and meaningless folded pieces of paper and a few pictures of her. She looked at those, recognizing the faces of people she cared about.

Jasper.

Monty.

Lexa?

She laughed, of course Lexa would be her friend _here. _

Her hands continued to sort through the things in the drawer, eventually coming across a red folder. _Finally something useful… _She thought as she opened it.

And minutes later, all the papers fell to the floor along with the plastic folder.

"…_lucky to be alive…"_

"…_Car accident…"_

"…_Severe head injury…"_

She let out a loud sigh, her hand flying to her forehead as stinging hot tears ran down her face. The satin material darkened with each stray teardrop that rained from her face. It always been about logic with her—logic, statistics, facts. The facts implied that she was _broken. _Her brain was _broken. _Her entire life, the one she thought she had, was not real according to logic, statistics and facts.

_Am I delusional? _

_I'm not delusional…_

_Facts, dammit…find something real, find something real…_

She unbuttoned her shirt, her mind starting to float to a memory—if it was really a memory—of an injury she obtained during a foolish moment. The material fell down from her skin and she walked over to the mirror to inspect her ivory skin. Her finger trailed over an _X _shaped scar on her right shoulder, the fresh red color of it as if it weren't fully healed.

"_You're a dumbass, Clarke." _That's what Bellamy said as he cut her skin, forcing the ricocheted piece of metal from her wound.

"_Just shut up…I need stitches." _

Tears continued to flow from her eyes because it felt real. Every ounce of pain she endured—every punch, every kick, every nick—it felt real. Each kiss, each touch, each sentimental moment she spent on a post-apocalyptic Earth felt so _real. _

But logic, statistics and facts said differently.

And it was all too easy to accept logic, statistics and facts.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

The white walls glistened with cleanliness, dim shadows running across them while a woman and a man stood over the blonde teenager. The hum of monitors beeped in the background, the green and blue neon colors running across the LCD screens. Her heart beat was stable. Her breathing as well. Everything was physically fine. She was once more clean—the only thing touching her features happened to be the cuts and bruises from day-to-day life on Earth.

"Clarke Griffin." Dr. Tsing snorted as if it were the most ironic thing she'd ever been acquainted with in her entire life. She did not view Clarke as a teenager. Her maturity and her danger level did not fall under that category. She'd seen the little bitch do too much damage to be labeled as a _simple _teenager. "I would love to kill this bitch."

The man, a guard with high-level clearance, chuckled softly, "You said she's in a chemically induced coma, right?" He was young—younger than the other guards, at least. Dr. Tsing trusted him because they were _involved _but for no other reason. It wasn't as if he proved himself, there was not a large challenged presented to the guard for him to prove himself. He simply existed and she simply used him.

"Right." The doctor nodded her head but the annoyance in her tone was not covered up. He often asked foolish questions to get to know her better. It aggravated her. But, when she moved her head towards him she saw a fire in his eyes. He wanted to destroy _her. _Clarke Griffin, that is. "We're going to drain her of every last drop." She was satisfied and a little turned on with her youthful partner.

"When?" He asked slowly, as if testing the question on his tongue.

"Why does it matter?" The doctor shot back, moving closer to him. She started to take off his bullet proof protection. "She's practically dead already, Nathan."

"It doesn't." He said, "I just wanted to know. Uh, yeah…she sort of ruined my cousin's life."

"Oh…that's right, I forgot you are Maya's cousin." Dr. Tsing said, "Maya was easily trapped by the spell of the sky people. Foolish and youthful, really. I'm glad you're different."

"Me too."

The doctor was in his trap and she didn't expect it at all. "Really, Thomas…let's get out of here."

Thomas simply smirked, "Let's."

_Nothing's going to happen to you, Clarke… I promised Maya… _

-100-

The sound of someone calling her name caused Clarke to lift her head. She smiled as the brunette waved her hand and started to walk in her direction. "Hey, I was going to stop by your house later but here you are." Octavia said with a friendly smile despite her black eye, "I was just doing some window shopping, would you like to join me?"

Clarke suddenly remembered where she was. Town. At least, that's what her mother and father called it when they said they had some business in "town" and asked if she wanted a ride to anywhere specific. Apparently, Clarke was not driving on her own yet after the accident. She agreed to go with them, thinking she would be able to spend some time with her father but instead she was occupying a bench, reading the newspaper. By the frequent looks from strangers, or not strangers, it was not a normal activity.

"I would like that a lot." She said, "I'm waiting on my mom and my dad. They had something to do inside of there." She pointed her finger to the building. "I don't know when they're going to be done, either."

Octavia's eyes darkened as her eyes focused on the building but she eventually forced a smile. "Uh, okay, well…we can stay close."

She wanted to ask Octavia what was wrong but Octavia was right when she said Clarke didn't know her—she didn't really _know _her. It was all a dream. A vivid, realistic dream. "That works for me."

In the hours that passed, she looked over at the building frequently but her parents never emerged. She and Octavia were eating Ice Cream—a delicacy Clarke only enjoyed once before, well, as far as she knew. "So, your brother was okay with your arrest?"

"Charges weren't pressed. The arrest essentially never happened." Octavia said as her tongue grazed the frozen treat. "He was pissed all the same. I'm supposed to be on house arrest but my neighbor Atom has a soft spot for me. He's sort of a dog but he's cute."

The image of Clarke shoving her knife into the side of Atom's neck surfaced and she had to fight herself from going into a daze.

_Atom's alive. It never happened. Atom's alive._

"Anyway, my brother trusts him but he really shouldn't. I don't know, my brother is overprotective but he's occasionally blind to the obvious things. Do I think he'll catch on eventually? Sure. But do I think he'll do something drastic like hang him from a tree? No way." Clarke had to prevent herself from choking, "God…sometimes he treats me like I've been locked in a closet my entire life and I don't know how to interact with people."

"Hidden under the floorboard." Clarke corrected her in a soft voice, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that."

Octavia shrugged, "I like that one…I'm going to use that in my next fight with him."

"Do you fight often?"

"All the time." There was something about Octavia's statement that made Clarke _relax. _"I really shouldn't persuade your opinion. Honestly, Clarke wait until you meet him."

"And when do I, you know, get to meet your overprotective brother?" Clarke did not want to sound too excited as she asked the question but she couldn't prevent it from boiling inside of her. She wanted to know about _Bellamy. _She wanted to see his face again, she wanted to see the person that she trusted with her life…

But then she remembered she never trusted him with her life at all…did she?

She was beyond confused.

And her brain was clouded by the fact that she wanted the innocent people she knew to be alive. It was as if everything in her was trying to force her to believe _this _world was real. But there were pieces of her that still clung to the smell of the night, the cicadas buzzing along the river and the sound of war drums that were always in tune with her heart.

"You can meet him today if you want. He's getting off work soon."

"What does he do?"

"Currently a security guard, he's going to go into the academy when I graduate high school."

"To be a cadet?" Clarke's heart lurched at the thought. Bellamy had a life _here. _He was going to be a cop…

"Yeah, I guess. I don't know a lot about law enforcement." Octavia responded, furrowing her eyebrows. "My house doesn't compare to yours but if you want to head that way, we can. I parked my car right over there." She pointed to a light blue Honda, "I'm sure your parents won't mind too much. They've been in there for hours."

"Yeah…you're right." Clarke said, "What are we waiting for? I want to meet your cute body guard, Atom."

_**Thank you for the reviews! This is my first fanfic so I would love some feedback! **_


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

_What the hell is texting?_

Clarke thought as she rode in the passenger seat, gripping the side of the door because Octavia's driving was truly frightening. The girl constantly played with the radio, adjusting the volume and changing the station while talking about cute boys and music. At one point, Octavia nearly swerved into a ditch but instead of paling or freaking out, she broke out into a loud laughter. "I'm sorry, really." She turned to Clarke, "I guess you aren't really good with cars…really, I'm sorry."

She sighed, "It's like it never happened."

The Blake family lived fifteen minutes away from town in a small apartment. Of course, to Clarke, it didn't seem that small. Her definition of small was highly obscured, though. She lingered outside A3-3-2." and furrowed her eyebrows. "Three. Two. Two." She ticked the numbers off her tongue separately but shook her head as Octavia's loud knocks on the adjacent door brought her from her thoughts. She could have sworn those were the numbers on Octavia's bracelet but that was so long ago…or it seemed like so long ago… the memory was hazy and she could simply be looking for something that wasn't there.

Atom graced her eyes after a few moments, pulling a shirt over his head as he smiled at Octavia. "Hey." He breathed, then directed his gaze to Clarke. "New friend?"

"I'm allowed to have friends." Octavia replied, "Just like you."

"Except my friends are a little _different." _

She snorted but Clarke recognized the feeble attempt to conceal her feelings, "Yeah…see I told you he was a dog, Clarke."

"Clarke, hmm…as in Clarke Griffin? My, oh my looks like you've got a _rich _best friend now." Atom's tone was condescending. He cut his eyes at Clarke, probably assuming that she was using Octavia for something. It was odd how Clarke didn't even care that she was being judged by him.

_Atom's alive. It never happened. Earth never happened. He's alive…_

_Well, for now…_

_Until Bellamy finds out that Atom is flirting with his sister…_

After a few more witty exchanges, Octavia pulled Clarke into the apartment. Her keys flew through the air, landing in a wooden bowl on the counter. "Yes!" Octavia cheered in excitement, "Typically I have terrible aim." _Not true. _"Uh…so make yourself comfortable." Her arm extended towards the couch angled in front of the flat screen television. "Sorry it looks like such a man cave in here."

"Man cave?"

Octavia's lips parted but her sentence was cut off by the front door opening and slamming shut. "So, I just got off the phone with Mrs. Miller and guess who she saw in town today?" Bellamy's sarcastic _please-lie-to-me _voice boomed from the entry way as the sound of him taking off his boots echoed throughout the apartment. Her heart started to beat uncontrollably at the mere sound of his voice. She never knew how much she would _miss _it. Octavia moved in front of Clarke for a moment as Bellamy continued, "You, and do you know where _you _were supposed to be? Here—" He stopped, the movement of his feet coming to a halt as he saw Clarke's blonde hair, sloppily concealed behind Octavia's form. "And who the hell are you?"

"We met in jail!" Octavia squealed excitedly, clapping her hands in spite of Bellamy's discontent.

Clarke opened her mouth, "She's not being honest. We did not meet in jail." She stammered as she looked at the _clean _Bellamy. He was quite gorgeous but he'd always been _attractive. _Her heart beat continued to pound against her ribcage like a hammer. She blinked before continuing, "We—"

"Oh, you're her accomplice." He nodded his head, licking his lips before he started on her.

Clarke arched an eyebrow, "Listen here, you're not going to yell at me." Octavia's lips parted, her eyes widened with shock. Bellamy mimicked his sister's face because he'd clearly never been talked to like that. For first impressions, they were getting off to a good start—a familiar start, really, like the first time they met. He took in a deep breath, meeting her eyes with a fire she _knew _but a flicker she'd never _felt. _

"You are peculiar, aren't you?" He moved forward. Just a step, really, but it felt like more. It felt like they were alone. It felt like this was the moment she desperately needed.

"You almost sound fascinated." She replied with a small smile, her eyes not breaking from his hold.

"Because I am."

Octavia let out a gagging sound, grabbing Clarke's arm to pull her into her bedroom. "Ignore him. There's a reason why he gets along with Atom and that's because he's a dog, too."

_At least he hasn't changed… _

They got lost in meaningless conversation that felt completely one-sided as Octavia went on and on about a different guy. She described him as tall, muscular and handsome. Clarke's head shot up and she smiled. _Lincoln… _"Tall, muscular and handsome…hmmm…." Clarke said with a smile, "I don't really have a type."

"But you have a boyfriend." Octavia said but Clarke shrugged. "Are you unhappy in your relationship?"

"I don't know." Clarke furrowed her eyebrows, "It's like I don't even know him…like I've never kissed him or even said a word to him." She let out a loud, exaggerated breath before slamming her hands on her knees. "Enough about my relationship, tell me about your handsome man?"

"We've talked about me all afternoon." Octavia objected, "Come on…give me something!"

She exhaled, "There's someone else and it's complicated because he doesn't…it's like he doesn't even know me. Not the real me. When he actually knows everything about me. He knows all my secrets but we had to kn—" She stopped, darkly smirking before she repeated the action of slamming her hands against her legs again. "It's just complicated because we don't know how to talk to each other."

"And you have a boyfriend." Octavia concluded, "Wow…I see why you don't want to talk about it. It's highly confusing."

She smelt something wafting through the door. "Is your brother cooking something?"

"More like _burning…_dammit!" She stood up quickly, opening the door to reveal soft puffs of smoke. Clarke followed her, watching Octavia extend her arms towards her brother with anger. "Why didn't the smoke detector go off?"

"I disconnected it. How was I supposed to know you needed water for this?" He flashed her a pot of yellow strands, tainted by a darkening brown color but leading to a charcoal black. Clarke's eyes moved from the pot to his face. It was a light pink color around his cheeks. _Is he blushing? _Clarke thought with a certain smugness. _If I had a camera… _

"Because its goddamn noodles. Why the hell are you trying to cook in the first place? You know you _can't._" Octavia took the pot from his hands, throwing it in the trash. "Don't look at me like that. It's not my fault that you can't cook, is it?"

"Do you like pizza?" He directed his question to Clarke. She blinked, only nodding in response even though she _never _had pizza before. He grabbed a small black tablet from his back pocket and pressed a few buttons, the clicks echoing in the apartment as he dialed the number. He winked over at her as Octavia touched her arm.

She laughed, "He's something else, isn't he?" Her tone was sarcastic as she pointed towards her brother.

Clarke swayed with a smirk on her lips, "He is, isn't he?"

**Thank you for the feedback! **


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

Clarke scrubbed her palm across her face, well-aware that time had slipped away from her during her evening with the Blake siblings. Octavia was sleeping on the brown microfiber couch, her knees bent as she curled into a ball. She looked over her shoulder at the girl before turning back to Bellamy. "I would offer you a beer but you're underage…"

"I doubt a beer would even have an effect." Clarke mumbled, thinking about the strong brew she was used to and how she'd slowly been building a tolerance for it. He chuckled in response to her comment, nodding along with the stereo. There was a bass-filled song playing and he seemed to be enjoying it. She was unfamiliar with the tune but she started to catch on. "I should probably get back to my house." The way she said it was as if she didn't intend to go home at all. "I sort of abandoned my parents today."

He hummed, a soft murmur piercing through his lips as he looked at her. "You're different…I can't put my finger on how you're different, but you are. Different from the gossip, at least." Her face fell but he quickly recovered, "Different is refreshing."

She squinted her eyes, "Are you happy?"

"I can't complain." He responded with a chuckle, "Why?"

Clarke shrugged, "I don't know…just wondering. But really, I should go." She turned to wake up Octavia but Bellamy cleared his throat.

"I'll take you home, don't wake her up." His voice was _different. _She wanted to tell him about how different he happened to be. It charmed her but something was off. She was attracted to everything that made him Bellamy Blake. The smirk, the body, the witty comments and his compassion for his sister…but she did not lo—wait, she didn't _love _Bellamy in the first place. She did not find herself having the same emotions for him that she had with the realBellamy—not love.

The thought struck her hard because this was the _real _Bellamy.

She followed him to his car and realized she didn't know _where _she lived. "Uh…you know where I live, right?"

"I think everyone knows where you live." Bellamy snorted, "What are you waiting for? Get in."

Clarke listened to him, climbing into the passenger side with a huff. "I hope your driving is better than Octavia's because…oh, no you probably taught her how to drive." She'd never heard Bellamy laugh so much in her life. She liked the sound of his laughter, it was quite contagious. He made sharp turns, swerved, and went over the speed limit but it never phased her. It made her laugh, it made her giggle. She felt hazy and drunk by the rush of blood as he made the sunroof open and the wind ran through her hair.

He came to a halting stop in front of her house. At least, she thought it was her house. It look vaguely familiar. He hit the button by the light to turn it on and grab something out of the middle compartment. It was a marker. "What are you doing?" She asked as he grabbed her hand, taking the top of the marker off with his teeth before he smiled at her.

"I am giving you my number." He said matter-of-factly, "Text me. Call me. Wash my number off your hand in disgust."

Clarke sighed, still amused. "Well I really should go disinfect my hand. Thanks for the ride, Bellamy." Her voice was soft as she opened the door. "I guess I'll see you around…with Octavia and all."

"Goodnight Clarke."

"Goodnight Bellamy."

"And if by chance you do text me, I wouldn't wait by your phone for a reply." He winked, "We both know you're infatuated with me."

She mocked his laugh as she shut the door but paused for a second, "We both know that you're the one that's going to be waiting by your phone." _Mostly because I don't know where my phone is…or if I even have one. _The door shut loudly and she walked up the driveway to her house, peeking over her shoulder at him.

_At least _you _can make the first move unlike the other you._

Her shoes hit the marble floor but not as loud as the pair of heels that moved towards her extremely quickly. "Clarke." Her mother said dryly, "Where have you been? I've called you almost ten times."

"I don't know where my phone is." Clarke wasn't lying, she really didn't know where it was or what it looked like. "Can you try calling it again? I really need it."

Her mom was shocked with her request and stammered, "Yeah, I will call it right now. Listen for the ring. You still have the factory tone right?"

"I think so, yeah." Clarke listened for any type of ringing, her ears faintly hearing a sound coming from the dining area. She followed the noise to the jacket she was wearing yesterday when she got arrested. _The damn thing was in my pocket the whole time? _She snorted as she picked it out of her jacket and showed it to her mother. "Sorry."

"It's fine…just don't make a habit out of this behavior recently. Your father and I are starting to worry." Clarke didn't care if she was being scolded. She had a father that _worried _for her. It was the best thing in the entire world. Clarke pressed the circle button on the phone, the screen turning on to reveal multiple messages from a lot of different names. Her mother, of course, with her _two _missed calls. Wells with _three messages, one missed call. _

Her heart stopped beating for a second.

Just a second and she felt like her entire body was going to fall to the ground.

_10 Messages_

_9 Missed Calls_

From Finn Collins.

Her mouth opened, a rough gasp pushing through her lips.

_He's alive. _


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

Stark tan face.

Blood dripping from veins.

Emptying and emptying.

Emptied.

Clarke's body jolted forward as her breath returned to her, she took in a deep gasp of air as she blinked away tears. She hadn't experienced that nightmare in a long time… In the darkness, she almost forgot where she was. If it weren't for the mattress against her skin or the sheets on her calves, she would have thought she was in her quarters in Camp Jaha.

Her dream was about the mountain and how the grounders were suspended upside down, drained of their blood and disposed of like trash.

_It's not real, it's not real, it's not real…_

But as she looked down at her own arms, she saw small marks on her veins—scabs.

"It's not real." She said out loud, "It's not real."

_It's not real because Finn is alive._

_It's not real because Wells is alive._

_It's not real because Atom is alive._

_It's not real because my dad is alive._

Her breathing heightened as she fell into a panic attack. Her knees moved up to her chest and she placed her forehead against them. "What the hell is going on?" She managed between uneasy breaths. It felt like the room was closing in on her. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to be.

_It's not real because it's too good._

_It's not real because this is everything you've ever imagined…_

_This is how you pictured Earth…_

_This is how the books went,_

_And the movies played…_

This _is not real. _

100

_Dear Dad,_

_It's probably useless writing this letter to you because this isn't real but I wanted to say something before I left. Something you already know but I didn't say often enough. You are, were, the best person I know, knew. Your bravery is something I stride to have every day of my life as well as your compassion. It is with a heavy heart that I leave you and Wells… it is with a heavy heart that I say my final goodbye. I will mourn you for the rest of my life but these last moments…dream or not have made my life. Of course, the extra time will never be enough. I guess what I'm really trying to convey is the fact that I love you and will always love you._

_I wish this was real but let's face the truth, we don't get what we want on Earth. We don't get happy endings. We face repeated trials that most likely in with repeated errors. That being said, I don't think that happiness is impossible. But I won't ever know if I don't return to my life. _

_This is our final goodbye,_

_Clarke. _

100

Finn's familiar kiss touched her lips and she pulled back, placing both hands on his chest in an attempt to distance herself from him. _You should be hugging him, holding on for dear life… _"How are you?" She cleared her throat, looking down at the concrete underneath her feet.

"Worried about you…what the hell is going on?" He asked, touching her face with his fingertips. She pulled away once more.

"Do you know the best way to tell the difference between a dream and reality?" Clarke asked suddenly, her hand batting away another attempt for him to touch her.

"Hmm?" He asked, his eyes searching her face. He thought she was trying to be romantic. He was still a fool…still a charming fool.

"If it's too good to be true, it's probably a dream." Clarke said darkly, "When I first saw you…I was filled with this joy and it felt like the burden had been lifted. When I saw your name flash across my phone I was so happy…and I thought to myself, here we go—here's your second chance, Clarke but it's not real and even it were I realized something—"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I don't know when or how I got over you." She started, meeting his eyes directly. "I don't know how because I told myself—swore—I would never forget, never let the pain end for myself. I killed you, Finn! I killed you and I shouldn't be able to move on and I've been blaming Bellamy for hesitating for so long when I haven't made the first move either. I told you I loved you…and I did, I still do, but I don't think I loved you the way you wanted to be loved or even the way you deserved to be loved."

He put his hand on her forehead, "Clarke…are you having a mental breakdown or something? I'm right here, I'm not dead."

She swatted his hand away, "It's not real, dammit! None of it is real!"

"Clarke!"

"I've got to wake up, I've got to wake up…"

Finn moved closer, "I'm going to take you to your mom." He gripped her arm and she flung him away with a defensive move Lexa taught her. "Where the hell are you going?" Clarke's feet hit the ground at a rapid pace. "Clarke, what are you doing?"

"I'm saying goodbye, Finn."

_The best way to wake up from a dream…_

_Death._


End file.
